If God Made You
by vertigo.jm
Summary: He was obsessed, according to his friends, and Harry seemed completely oblivious to it all. It made him even more fascinating. Sweet. Slash. OneShot


**Disclaimer: Don't own. Am not gaining anything, so there you have it.**

**Author Notes: Hope you enjoy!**

**If God Made You**

By Vertigo

I watch him from afar. He's beautiful; he's been beautiful since he was eleven, since I first saw him inside Madame Malkin's. Something about that little boy, that day, had called my attention in such a way that I overlooked his ugly glasses, his baggy clothes, his muggle-ish appearance. I knew at once he was special; I had to try and befriend him.

When I found out who he really was I thought I understood why I had found him special; I made myself believe I was attracted by the power his name brought forth. How wrong had I been then? But it was to be expected, I was only a child then. A child who knew nothing of the world, who knew nothing about anything, except his own money, his own power, his own pure blood. I was an annoying brat and I knew it.

When Harry, with those verdant eyes that pulled me to him, refused my hand of friendship I was heart broken. I have always been spoilt, I have always gotten what I wanted, and once more Harry Potter made me experience new things.

I look at him while he's sitting there by himself. He knows nothing of my watching him, and I don't know if I'm glad or angry at him. He's such a blind prick. He should know how much of my attention he grabs hold off; he should just turn around now, come running to me and give me the most breathtaking kiss in all eternity.

But Harry just kept on looking at the setting sun, his hands were clutching hard in the grass, his fingers digging deep in the dirt; I knew he was felling bad about something. I was too, you had accused me of something I just couldn't deny, earlier today, I wanted to lie, to scream at you, but once I realized my feelings for you there was no hiding from them or hiding them from anyone.

You said to me that I was stalking you, your best friends were there with you, I was mortified, I laughed nervously, and I angrily stomped away. You gazed after me then, I could feel your eyes on my back, but I turned the next corner because that gaze was burning in my back and I couldn't take it anymore.

Put yourself in my place Potter, you're fascinating to look at, of course I want to follow your every move, and I want you to notice me too, you haven't in a while, that's why I follow you. I wait for the moment when you'll turn around and yell at me to leave you alone but I'll shake you and yell back for you to wake up and that I'm right here before you. But the moment hasn't come until now. And I'm getting impatient.

You looked around now, tearing your gaze from the mesmerizing lake, our eyes lock but you do nothing. Without realizing what I'm doing I move towards you, I try to turn the other way and run as fast as I can, but my feet have a mind of their own and my head also refuses to retreat. Sometimes I hate the Malfoy in me.

You don't even meet my stare when I halt at your side, you just look back to the lake, where the Squid is lazing about as usual, and I follow your eyes and can too see how beautiful the spectacle is. But you're much better to look at than a freezing lake and soon my eyes betray me and my feelings and there I go staring at you again.

We've never talked properly, but I'm not nervous about it now. I sit by your side and you take hold of my hands squeezing my fingers and drawing patterns in my right palm. I'm quite confused by your actions, you were shouting at me earlier, what made you turn into this affectionate person I was seeing now, this person I wasn't accustomed to.

You looked at me and my heart stopped, there were tears in your eyes, and I wanted to kiss them away and say sweet nothings into your ear, but I'm incapable of doing so. Has anyone ever told you that you're even more beautiful when you're crying? Certainly not, somehow I think I'm one of the few people who've gotten the chance to see you cry.

You squeeze my hand again, looking down at our intertwined fingers, I cannot possibly hold myself any longer and in the next moment you're in my arms and I'm rocking you, apologizing from treating you horribly for these past seven years, telling you that you're everything I've ever wanted and telling you everything that's been stuck in my throat for months now.

I wish we had been total strangers until now, we would've had a clean beginning, we wouldn't have known of each others past. But then again, I wouldn't have been able to watch you during class when you work your blocking charm out correctly and beam like Christmas has come early. Or when your chest puffs out with pride when McGonagall says you've done a great job. Perhaps I don't regret having waited so long.

We talk normally now, as if we'd been friends for years. You're joking with me in between kisses and I haven't been this happy since, since ever. My friends say I'm the old Draco again, that I haven't been this way since Voldemort killed my parents. At least I have Harry now, and Harry has no one also. It's a perfect match really.

I'm leaving my Arithmancy class and you're by the door waiting for me; you've been doing this a lot lately, I think it's adorable. Anyway you peck me on the cheek before taking my hand in yours and helping me carry my books. And it's times like these that I don't regret having waited. Its times like these that I wonder if someone from above doesn't love me very much for having given me a present like this.


End file.
